


Reichenbach Rescue.

by MiladyPheonix



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Post-Reichenbach, Reichenbach AU, Reunions, how it should have ended
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-03 22:59:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 6,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16334867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiladyPheonix/pseuds/MiladyPheonix
Summary: How it should have ended. Mycroft is finally sensible and has John help him bring Sherlock home.





	1. The Truth

**Author's Note:**

> With thanks to all the Tumblr darlings especially @underestimatemethatwillbefun. A WIP and my first long fic attempt. No Beta, not Britpicked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft tells John the truth of the Reichenbach fall, John has a job to do.

John was not pleased to be summoned to Mycroft’s office but he could hardly say no as Mycroft was threatening him with the ASBO that had conveniently disappeared after the Blind Banker case. So after pointless greetings and even more pointless offerings of tea and strangely cake Mycroft got down to it. Sherlock had never bothered with small talk and boring social norms John thought before a twinge of pain shut down the memories.

“John, what you probably do not know is that James Moriarty had snipers aimed at yourself, Gregory Lestrade, and Martha Hudson that day. That’s why Sherlock jumped off the roof of St Bartholomew’s, in order to preserve the lives of the three people that Moriarty had deduced he considered friends" Mycroft's delivery was light but the words fell like poison into John’s ears, he wanted to scream .

“Why tell me this now Mycroft” John’s voice felt tight but he kept it smooth “It makes no bloody difference". “The difference Doctor Watson, is that it’s time for Sherlock to come home, his fall from St Bart’s was just a trick for Moriarty, Sherlock has had a job to do taking down his network, dismantling the web, but it’s over now". A whisper of regret or pain shifted across Mycroft's face as he spoke but John was too shocked to interpret it.

"It’s a trick, just a magic trick" those words, in that voice rang through his memory and John was on his feet, then his knees, before he knew what was happening. Mycroft easily lifted John back to his chair, surprisingly strong for a cosseted diplomat as he murmured quiet words to John, nonsense that John couldn’t really hear until the thundering pulse in his ears quieted.

“… captured in Serbia, I leave tonight to retrieve my brother but he'll need a doctor once we reach the safe house. Your locum work is being covered by my people and we will collect all the supplies you request before we leave. I assumed you’d wish to accompany me" Mycroft went on to explain how he'd spent days working the Deepweb gaining trust to get access to Sherlock but all John knew was that Sherlock was alive and Sherlock needed his help.

“Suture kits and suitable anesthetic" John burst out over Mycroft's rambling “I’ll need splints, bandages, he’ll need non-opiod painkillers but I want morphine on hand in case he needs something stronger, we'll worry about the fall out later”. We, John realised meant him and Sherlock and later would always be when they got back to Baker street. John takes a deep breath and keeps listing everything he might need, this is his job, and he can do it with his eyes closed or with bombs falling around him.

Anthea had materialised and was taking notes, John shifted his focus to her explaining details of equipment and specific medications he wanted. He would deal with Mycroft later but for now he had a job to do.


	2. Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock arrives at the safe house.

Mycroft refused to allow John to accompany him to the extraction which infuriated John but made sense, British operations on Serbian soil would never be sanctioned and John knew he could become a loose canon when Sherlock's safety was involved.

So as soon as they arrived at the safe house John had dumped his jacket on the nearest bed and started setting up his newly acquired equipment. Mycroft had found everything he asked for and a few new toys he didn’t know were in development. He slowly sterilized every flat surface and inventoried the equipment twice, shifted things around to change the set up of the room a few times and generally did anything to not think about Mr No-Leg-Work-Please being the one who went behind enemy lines instead of himself.

Hours after he had left Mycroft kicked open the door and gently lowered a bruised and scraggly figure onto the nearest bed. The one John had dropped his jacket onto when they had arrived, it felt like days ago… Sherlock.

Sherlock shook and bled but as his lay there he dragged John’s discarded jacket to his face, breathing in the scent of travel, bad coffee, and John’s deodorant. Quickly pulling some sterile gloves on John cast a glace at a shockingly dishevelled Mycroft Holmes, he looked exhausted but uninjured. Sherlock was a different story as he flinched under John’s careful touch.

“You’re safe, Sherlock you’re safe, it's me John” pointless drivel poured out of John as his anxiety from the last few hours unspooled it's self in seconds. John tuned out the tremors in Sherlock's frame and Mycroft’s suddenly making tea to check the injured man now under his care. There were scars, some months old and some just days old but the open wounds over the scapula were cause for concern, could there be any fractures? Where was that portable x-ray unit?


	3. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey home, Mycroft's plan, Sherlock's mind, and John's heart.

“He always does that, makes tea under duress" Sherlock croaked, the usual velvet in his baritone voice was shredded by disuse or misuse but he was smirking as his brother made a pot of tea for the 4th time in 24 hours. John smirked back at him astonished but deeply concerned that Sherlock was awake and cognizant enough to mock his sibling after enough painkillers to level a camel, John would know.

“Allow me my follies BrotherMine it has been a trying few days" Mycroft said while another part of his mind pondered the bond between his brother and the army doctor. He was sure Sherlock would never be recovering so quickly mentally and physically under the care of any other physician yet there he lay, battered but stitched up and snide in the tiny cot.

John was exhausted as the damage was extensive but largely superficial, they had not been trying to kill Sherlock yet. A few broken ribs and some ligament damage in his upper body. The malnutrition would have to be addressed slowly as Sherlock was never a big eater but it was his mind that John worried about, Sherlock was currently riding the high of jubilation but it was not going to last forever. They would focus on that at home, then he suddenly remembered that he'd never contacted Mary about his leaving.

Mary, he would need to speak to her too. Sherlock was back and would need John for weeks if not months to come. John would have to see about the deposit on the ring. There was too much going on in his head and his heart to make any long term plans now.

A warm hand on his shoulder brought John out of his mind and Mycroft repeated “He's asleep. We need to discuss transporting him home. I have a passport for him under William Scott Watson, he always used some variation of your combined names.” Mycroft drifted into a soft silence which John filled “He'll need a medical charter, or business class if we have to go commercial. He’ll need space to rest and I’ll need space to work” John watched Mycroft give himself a bit of a shake which made John re-evaluate how worried Mycroft was but the elder Holmes soon got on the phone to arrange things.


	4. Damage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock's back in London, at the hospital. The damage is tallied, but the pain is not all Sherlock's.

John has insisted on an actual hospital and a full work up, it was worrying that Sherlock barely argued or even worked up a good sulk. All he said was “I want to go home John” and hung onto the sleeve of John's jacket as they went in. Mycroft had called in the family physician and fast tracked any tests or equipment. The doctor, an elderly but very proficient gentleman had rechecked Sherlock’s injuries, ordered blood work to be done, and scolded Sherlock for not having seen him since his teens.

Mycroft had gone to secure refreshments while the doctors saw to his brother but almost dropped everything when he witnessed the older physician weeping openly in the corridor. “Who did that... who would hurt... he was such a sweet child!” The doctor stammered as his red eyes locked on Mycroft for answers. “I did" Mycroft said quietly and entered the room, Doctor Watson would ensure Sherlock at least ate something.

Far too many hours later John steadied Sherlock as they entered the ubiquitous black town car to Baker street. The reunions had gone as expected. Greg had sworn and had to sit down, Mrs Hudson had screamed in shock but agreed to air out 221B. “I'll be your house keeper but just this once". Mary had stared incredulously at Sherlock as he lay in the bed, studied John’s face for a long time and with a nod to Sherlock had left. John would speak with her later.

“Home” Sherlock’s voice was recovering though still much quieter than it used to be, as John helped him up the 17 steps and gently onto the couch. Mycroft was quietly unpacking groceries in the kitchen as John was quietly unpacking medical supplies into the bathroom. It was too damn quiet, calm, peaceful, it was hateful.


	5. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally back at Baker street. And the pieces start falling into place.

“We need to debrief him John, he’s been medically cleared but he’s still legally dead. I need as much as possible if I'm to resurrect Sherlock Holmes. I’m not simply creating a new identity. I will also need your signature on a few documents to release assets back to my brother, you do know you were his sole beneficiary?”

“I had no idea, you never told me" John said quietly. “I may have left it to my staff to inform you, which in hind sight was extraordinarily callous, forgive me John” Shock flickered over John’s face at Mycroft’s words and tone. John smiled soothingly “You brought him back Mycroft, of course I forgive you"

The Baker street routine was quickly established, John saw to tending Sherlock’s injuries and Mycroft stopped by increasingly frequently to tend to Sherlock’s resurrection. Mrs Hudson tended to her boys with almost militant regularity, they were both to eat, and plenty of it, while it’s hot mind you!

John's communication with Mary decreased in frequency until there had been almost a week with no words between them. She arrived on a Friday evening looking pensive but calm. “I have to give you back, don’t I?” she asked John’s hastily plastered on smile. The smile slid off his face and she continued “I never really had you, Not really. We might have got there if we'd had more time" She turned and smiled grimly at Sherlock “I really want to hate you. You put him through absolute hell when he lost you, and now I’ve lost him”

She turned watery eyes to John. “Mary I…” but he had nothing to say, she was right of course. His Mary, perceptive, bright, and so gracious. “Just be happy you silly sod!” she burst out before giving John one last brief hug. “I'll be alright in a bit John, don’t fuss.” She said letting him go “You'll keep him in trouble Sherlock? That always makes him happy.” “Of course Mary, just enough trouble" Sherlock reassured her before she turned and left Baker street with her head held high.

Her heart was calm knowing John was where he should be and was so very loved.


	6. Fallout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the pieces are moved and sometimes the pieces just fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've updated the tags from this chapter.

A few weeks later Mycroft sat on the sofa with a truly mind boggling amount of paperwork around him. “You’re almost alive again brother dear" He calmly stated as he sorted paperwork between two folders. “John signed your estate back to you, thank you John, and now I need your signature on the last few documents”

Mycroft handed Sherlock a bulging file of reports on the deaths, disappearances, and unmentioned bloody “interviews” required to snap the threads of that spider's web. Smoothly sliding the smaller file into his briefcase he started explaining the file contents to Sherlock, but mostly to John who watched with increasing interest as the brothers discussed names he had never heard and places he would now never agree to visit.

An hour into what the brothers kept calling "the tedious paperwork", John slid the second file out of Mycroft's briefcase. “What’s this then? We’re going on and on about that file, what’s this one?” Mycroft flushed as Sherlock paled. Opening the file John saw more reports, more deaths and slowly handed it to Sherlock. “Myc…” Sherlock started, sounding so much like the boy his big brother had doted on “Myckey"? He asked more firmly.

Mycroft was silent and for a second John feared a stroke... or a heart attack... or a bloody aneurism because only death would save Mycroft Holmes if John’s suspicions were right. Sherlock drew a steadying breath “I was already in the area wasn’t I? Following orders for once, ruthless, efficient… Desperate to get home!” His voice broke again for the first time in days.

“There needed to be reasons, plural to arrange your resurrection, it’s not a simple computer” but Mycroft’s explanation was cut off by John’s fist, connecting brutally with Mycroft’s veneered front teeth. 

“I’m afraid John doesn’t quite love you right now Mycroft” Sherlock’s breath was shaking but the file in his hands was steady. “I’d probably have done the same though, I am a very good field asset. Do leave his nose John, his dentist is no longer on call, since I stopped having nightmares. He'll have to wait for an appointment”

Sherlock slid the smaller file inside the larger one and packed it all away as Mycroft climbed painfully to his feet with a handkerchief to his mouth to avoid getting blood on Mrs Hudson’s carpet. She would assuredly scold him if anything happened to her carpet but that would be nothing if she learned the truth of what he’d done.

"How much sooner Mycroft?” John gritted out through clenched teeth “How much sooner would your Brother have been home! Without the scars on his back!” John was yelling and took a step towards the elder Holmes before Sherlock wrapped himself around his furious protector like kelp, strangling the rage as John pushed it down to avoid hurting him.

“No more than three months" Sherlock spoke quickly into John’s burning red ear “No more than three months John and I would more than likely have been captured anyway, I was in too deep in Serbia”. “Three months" John exhaled slowly before fixing a Captain’s steadfast gaze onto Mycroft's bloodied face. “You’re going to give them back to him, once he is resurrected there will be no cases from you, no favours to you, and no sudden black town cars, For Three Months" Spine ridged he held Mycroft’s eyes before the elder Holmes dropped his head and left Baker street.

Anthea could complete the process with his brother, John would at least be passingly polite to her at least. He would see Sherlock again. He had used an efficient asset, but also abused the trust and desperation of his own sibling. He had missed Sherlock over those two years but the next three months was the least he could do.


	7. Resurrected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock is alive again. Can he finally rest in peace?

The next week John calmly opened the door to an almost interested looking Anthea, word that John had broken Mycroft's teeth had travelled quickly and some of the bored indifference had faded from her demeanour. “Here is the proof of life for Sherlock, please inform him that his brother's dental surgery was successful and the maxilla fracture will take 6 to 8 weeks to heal. Sherlock is alive John, it’s over" They nodded to each other, long surviving veterans of the Holmes brother’s interpersonal war.

“You’re alive” John quipped to Sherlock who lay on the couch, still recuperating but well enough to be completely bored. “Got your file here. You’ve been cleared medically... well remanded into my care anyway". John leafed contentedly though the thick folder "Cleared for Scotland Yard, Greg will be pleased, and here’s your cleared psychological evaluation…” John stared at Sherlock who was now sitting up and studying him silently. “When did they do a psychological evaluation?”

“You broke Mycroft's maxilla" was all Sherlock said, looking excessively satisfied with the world.

“Psych eval" John prompted waving the folder at his friend. He would not be side tracked so easily as he knew there was no way Sherlock would have passed an evaluation at the hospital.

“Mycroft would have had me rubber stamped by one of his pet shrinks, probably needed it for my resurrection. You fractured my brother’s maxillary bone, that’s much more interesting and I think that has actually done wonders for my state of mind. I’m alive John! Now may I please take you to Angelos instead of sneaking a delivery through Mrs Hudson's kitchen door?” Sherlock gathered his coat and rifled through the document folder for his new bank cards “Come on John" He called heading down the stairs and out into Baker street at last.  


The walk to Angelos had been great, anticipation built up with every step. Angelo had been informed days ago but greeted Sherlock like a lost son, heeding John’s earlier warning about the injuries he had not pounded on Sherlock’s back or hugged him for very long but the welcome had been heart felt and Ernest. John had called after him for a candle and they settled down with some excellent wine that must have come from Angelo’s private stock. The trouble had started about 20 minutes in when a teenager passing by had noticed Sherlock in the window and snapped a quick picture.

This had triggered a Twitter storm with Sherlock’s own phone going crazy and within another 20 minutes there was a small crowd outside. Angelo had initially been thrilled to see the patrons until he noticed what they were doing. One brazen kid had even stepped into the door to get a shot of both the boys. Furious, Angelo had hosed the crowd down from his upstairs offices. Berating them for disturbing his paying customers and disrespecting local heros. The wait staff had quickly packed up their meal when Sherlock requested it and they’d added desserts and more wine before letting the boys out the back door.

Fleeing the scene there were outraged cries behind them as water poured down again and the Twitter phenomenons made their escape.


	8. R.I.P?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock it seems cannot rest in peace but maybe there can be a life after his death.

“What a cock up” John announced as they finally made it back to 221B. They had escaped with cold leftovers, dessert, and a wine John did not even recognise but Sherlock had "hmmmm'd" over it so clearly Angelo had looked after them again. “Angelo really looked after us there, hosing down a crowd in front of his own establishment, risky" John said as he popped the left overs in the oven to reheat.

“Angelo is as fond of risk as you or I are John and his family style take care attitude is why he will never be short of patrons. This wine really is quite good and we have tiramisu too" Sherlock cleared the table, quietly placing a low candle centre stage, present if John wanted to light it but small enough to dismiss if he wished. “I thought we might continue our evening at home" He suggested stepping aside to show the cleared space on their shared desk and pointedly not mentioning the candle.

John smiled at Sherlock's casual attempt to be well, casual. He was really bad at it sometimes and was clearly put out that his first evening of freedom had been so rudely disrupted. Pulling cutlery out of the draw John collected one of the tea light candles they had stashed everywhere in case of a power cut. Pleased with his subterfuge John laid cutlery and glasses on the table before noticing there was already a candle sitting quietly in place, so he lit them both and joined Sherlock back in the kitchen where he was pulled plates from the cupboard. John took the food out of the oven and the dessert out of the fridge to come to room temperature.

“John" Sherlock started in surprise at the two lit candles on the table. Setting the plates neatly at each place setting he poured wine carefully while John dished up for them. “Not the evening I had in mind” Sherlock stated.

“Vultures” John griped but he was smiling “The staff did a nice job though, while Angelo was dowsing paparazzi. Our meals, dessert, this lovely wine. We just had to supply our own candles" John smiled again at Sherlock who flushed and focused on his food for a while.

“Not the evening I had in mind" Sherlock repeated nervously “But a very good evening, bit of a surprise”

“Bit like old times" John realised “Bit of a chase through London then home safe with you" John cleared his throat feeling he'd said too much.

“Thank you by the way" Sherlock said smoothly to cover his own nerves “For getting me home safe to London, and chasing through the streets with me… for still being here"

“Well you said it could be dangerous so here I am, I’m not going anywhere Sherlock" John spoke to reassure them both because despite having chinned two City Officials now John was still at Sherlock’s side. So they would finish their meal, have some dessert and wine before an early night. Sherlock was still not 100% done recovering and John was quietly worried that their impromptu sprint might have repercussions.


	9. Repercussions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John was right, and a tough night starts them on the road to healing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual not bated or brit picked.

An anguished scream woke John and for one brief second he checked his own throat, he had heard screams like that but they had always just been echoes of his nightmares. This scream was it’s own nightmare as he made his way to Sherlock's room. Sherlock was thrashing in his bed calling out in a rough language John thought might be German but did not have the time to confirm as Sherlock started yelling, screaming in English now.

“No, No, I'm not a spy. We're tourists, we got lost, No! NO!” Sherlock's voice grew ragged as John turned on all the lights he could find and started calling Sherlock out of his nightmare, his thrashing had pushed the duvet off the bed but John left it there knowing that replacing it now would trigger feelings of confinement but the weight would make Sherlock feel safer after he was settled.  
“Sherlock, Sherlock, it’s John. You’re in London” Sherlock stilled at the sound of John's voice. “You're in 221B, you're safe" “John? We were running, they were trying to take you away from me in Serbia... I'm so cold" Sherlock sounded lost “We were running from the paparazzi Sherlock, I’m sorry this triggered you" John carefully pulled the duvet back over Sherlock “You're in 221B Sherlock, we're in London, you’re safe, I’m safe and no one is taking me away. I’m not going anywhere"  
“I need a shower” Sherlock observes as he calmed slowly “It’ll help clear my head, hopefully" He reluctantly pulled away from John who was determinedly trying to tuck him in but he needed to get clean and to think. “Does it ever stop?” He asked a strangely stricken looking John, “All of this in my head, does it ever stop?” “No, I'm sorry Sherlock" Sherlock smiled sadly at John’s honesty, would it kill him to just lie for once “But it gets easier to handle, it gets quieter with time, you’ll be okay Sherlock, go have your shower" Sherlock did as instructed while John remade his bed.

The shower had clearly helped and Sherlock was smiling slightly at John's usual hospital corners in his own top sheet when John came back with tea and crackers. He put them down on the bedside table hoping Sherlock would eat and get some sleep. “Stay" The word was so quiet John almost missed it but a cool hand settled on his arm “Please" Sherlock was asking for help, John knew company would aid Sherlock so he nodded and went to the kitchen for his own tea and plate. When he got back Sherlock was already eating the light snack and half way through the cup of tea. They ate and drank in silence, neither needed words. Once they were finished Sherlock stacked everything and John put it on his bedside table. “Sleep Sherlock, I’ll be here" He reassured his exhausted friend quickly following him into a deep sleep.


	10. A Good Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could be the start of something good.

John woke warm and very confused as this was not his room and there was a body wrapped around his back. “Sherlock?” He asked not knowing why he was asking. “You okay?” He continued as he remembered last night and the reason he was there. Long arms tightened around him “Yes, I think so, now go back to sleep" Sherlock rumbled into his hair clearly determined to ignore that he was being woken up.

John's spine had stiffened against Sherlock’s chest, waking him slightly. Sherlock remembered the night, the horrible dream of the Siberian thugs taking John and beating him but not touching Sherlock who had been unable to move to John's aid. He refused to let go of this warm, whole, healthy John. John's steady breathing calmed his own, Sherlock rationalised but still held his breath as John settled back into his arms and swiftly fell back to sleep.

The next time they woke John had been watching Sherlock “I never see you sleep" He explained flushed face as he realised he was watching his best friend sleep, while he lay in the same bed. “I sleep on the couch all the time John, it would be impossible for you to not see me” Sherlock stated, sleepy but too pleased to see that John had stayed to be grumpy. “You sulk on the couch, there’s a difference. Come on you, breakfast” John hopped out of bed with an ease born of military routine and a doctor’s habit. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asked as Sherlock followed him quietly to the kitchen.

“They took you, they hurt you and I couldn’t stop them" Sherlock draped himself carefully over John’s back as he fried eggs feeling the muscles move in John's strong shoulders. “Sorry I woke you and thank you for staying” He gave John a gentle squeeze and felt a warm hand settle on his arm for a second. “It's not a problem, I remember reading somewhere that a companion could help one sleep" Sherlock made toast as he processed John’s statement, something felt off about it and his heart broke when he realised “You were alone, when you woke up there was no companion. That bedsit was where you went through that… alone” Sherlock waved vaguely towards his room and the terrors that had happened in his dream.

John put their plates of eggs on the table. “Not the whole time, there were people at the hospital and then later I met you" He smiled up into sad eyes that held his gaze until the pop of the toaster startled them both. “Right breakfast” John clapped his hands together and started making tea, “If you have another nightmare just call me. The co-sleeping really seemed to help, best sleep I’ve had since you…” “died" Sherlock finished and mugs clattered against the counter. John reached back blinding and his fingers found Sherlock’s radial pulse, he was grateful that it seemed okay to do this now, that touch seemed to be a barrier they had broken.

Sherlock’s wrist was being held suddenly but the pressure was gentle, his pulse, John was looking for his pulse as some proof or reassurance of life. He eased his arm from John’s grasped and pulled John against his chest. He knew his heart rate was elevated “I’m sorry, I didn’t think before I spoke” He held John, who listened quietly to his heartbeat until the kettle boiled and they seperated. Sherlock filled the teapot as John pulled tomato and worcestershire sauces from the fridge.

Yes, breakfast, it was a good start.


	11. Redeeming...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Mycroft interlude to give the boys some time alone ;)

Mycroft poured himself into work and plans, and if he watched CCTV a bit more closely than usual and had bumped up Sherlock’s allowance by 20% for that quarter nothing was said. He worked and he watched as John and Sherlock raced around London solving their little puzzles. He was relieved to have Sherlock back to thier usual domestic matters as it meant he would stay in London. Sherlock would stay in the city where Mycroft also lived, it was the best he could hope for but the three months loomed ahead. 

Mycroft had three months to find some way to restore everything he had taken from his brother. How could he conceivably give Sherlock back the additional time and heartache he had cost his brother and John. Mycroft allowed himself a small smile, John would be the way. He would do this as properly and carefully as he could, three months was plenty of time and the proper channels, all official, would please John as well. 

Mycroft was healed by the time his plan was underway, he knew this could backfire but he had used all the proper channels so there would be nothing untoward about the gift.

What gift could restore what he had cost his brother, well John of course! He carefully slid the folder into a desk draw, another fortnight or so and it would be ready for when he could speak to Sherlock again. 

Maybe he should wait for Sherlock to broach the subject, it was a potentially delicate matter and as blunt as his brother could be with the feelings of others Sherlock did not tolerate ham-fisted in his personal affairs. 


	12. A New Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Baker street boys settle into thier normal lives, well a Baker Street version of normal.

Sherlock had been watching the news like a hawk, he had adored John’s vicious attack on his brother's overpriced dental work but there were actual interesting things happening out there and John’s embargo meant he could not involve himself.   


Not that he had been bored, quite to the contrary as he was learning. Every day he learned how much he liked quick kisses and the way John’s face lit up at a well timed cup of tea and every night he learned that long consuming kisses were John’s favourite, his too, and he learn just how Much John loved to touch him. He learned how to make John curse with pleasure and then how to stop John talking altogether.   


They learned each other and while it was not easy going it was finally moving forward. John had returned to therapy with Ellie, now adding his sexuality to the sleep issues he still had. Sherlock had attended a few sessions though he found them draining and they always left a tension once they were back at home.   


“We're too close" He had commented one evening after a session “With our sharing therapy and living together with our new relationship" He'd clarified as John's face grew pained. “If you’d prefer not to attend sessions I understand Lovely, I know they are rough on you.” Sherlock stared incredulously at his dearest and most beloved idiot. “No, I’m attending sessions John, it helps you! What I was thinking was maybe I could take a case or two while you’re at work… it’s been three months hasn’t it?” John smiled to himself because he knew Sherlock had been watching the news by the shouting he had heard on his way up Baker street in the evenings and maybe he was missing his brother too.   


“Good evening BrotherDear” Sherlock fairly crooned into his phone “No it’s been long enough, yes he is here so this call is sanctioned by John" A whirl of dressing gown carried him across the room “You have a fascinating little problem in… No my flat is not bugged, unless I missed some of yours. No Mycroft I have not done a sweep since I got back. I was recovering and then shagging the daylights out of a doctor! You might have heard of him" 

John choked on his tea and had to leave to get cleaned up “Yes, the whole file. No I shall collect it. Yes you’re allowed to see me. Yes I am sure! Oh for God’s sake!" Sherlock thrust his phone into John's still damp hands.   


“Yes Mycroft, I think it’s been long enough. Please keep him safely in trouble before he ruins the wallpaper again.” Sherlock ignored John’s blatant emphasis on safety and quickly outlined a plan to visit the next day to collect the files himself. He would do so while John was at work as he needed to discuss something with his dear sibling.   



	13. Redemption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft's redemption.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're on the home stretch. Penultimate chapter and an epilogue.   
> My endless thanks to those who have supported, kudos'd, subscribed, and commented.

Sherlock strode into his brother’s office ignoring the turning heads, he was recovered and working with Lestrade again so he saw no reason why he should be left out of more interesting work. He had promised John no more unaccompanied overseas travel and he knew Mycroft would not be daft enough to try.

Sokovia looked interesting he decided as he flipped through the file. Mycroft’s people had turned up a proper international threat as some idiot had invented an A.I system that had deduced wiping out most of humanity was the only way to save them, smart for a bot then. “An extinction level event is planned" Sherlock read dripping incredulity on his brother's new carpet. 

“Yes, the chatter shows there’ll be an attack on Sokovia, Wakanda has people in the area but we’re not sure if they're involved, the vibrainum was stolen not sold.” “You can’t have him!” Sherlock stated adamantly, the file had shown all involved parties. “If I cannot go then nor can John!” “The resemblance is remarkable but we cannot interfere with CIA operations at the moment, things are a bit tense" Mycroft had a hand out for the file. “and I’m not getting you any vibrainum either.” 

“Then why am I here exactly" Sherlock stared at the updated décor, six months old, far too much blue, he was decorating like Father but Sherlock refused to say anything. “You know why you’re here Sherlock, we both do” Mycroft sounded smug but tired. “Yes well, John and I are settling so I thought we might make… it… Official” Sherlock finished haltingly expecting Mycroft to scoff as his sentimentality but his brother opened a draw and smoothly handed him a thin dusty file. 

“It’s all official, proper channels and such, thought it would please your John.” Sherlock's eyes darted from his brother to the file in his hand, it shook so he sat and opened it. A Notice of Intention sat on top of the file it was dated 2 months prior and a marriage licence was underneath it just waiting for their signatures. Mycroft’s own certification of officiate was in the folder too. If he wanted to Sherlock could be married to John Watson in a matter of weeks! 

“Mycroft" Sherlock sniffed loudly “The waiting period is three months for a licence, you’ve given them back to me" Sherlock dropped his head into his hands and wept over the file. Mycroft dabbed at his eyes, grateful little brother couldn’t see him. “Most of them Sherlock, I was hoping to arrange a honeymoon to cover the difference Brotherdear. Somewhere neither of you have been before  of course" 

Sherlock shook and nodded at his brother’s words. “John really knocked some sense into you didn’t he" The brother’s laughed through their tears, they would be all right. “He's a good man Sherlock, look after him" “I will and thank you. He's improving with Ella, she seems best suited to him so I’ll expect honeymoon options within a fortnight Mycroft, I fought for John for two years I’m not wasting any more time. 


	14. Rescued

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Sherlock rescued John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One last chapter then the epilogue.

John took a deep breath, the therapy had been hard but so helpful. He was bisexual and that was fine, the social obligation of hetronormativity and his family had caused the repression and the bond between himself and Sherlock had started to lift it. Extraordinary Sherlock! The aggression and anger he had held for so long were not caused by Sherlock or even the people who assumed they were together, they were John’s own anxiety from his repression and allowing himself to simply be authentic had helped so much.   


Rescuing Sherlock, having him back had freed John of so much unhappiness. Sherlock’s love and patient had rescued John, so there was just one more thing to do he decided as he walked into a jewellers. Buy a ring for his boyfriend because he would never loose Sherlock again! Some time later John ground his teeth at idiots, he was starting to think like Sherlock. “Unique but strong” He had explained to the third or fourth proprietor “We do active work and I don’t want it to be broken or damaged" "State of the marriage right there" Sherlock quipped in his memory.  


John felt the tension unwind as a proprietor grinned at him for once. “John Watson, I love your blog! Is this for Sherlock Holmes?! Jenny! Fetch the titanium platinum piece, it’s John Watson!!” Jenny, clearly his wife, brought a small box to John and nestled inside was perfection. Mirror shined titanium cradled a sparkling platinum band, the couple behind the counter glowed as John’s eyes filled. “Its perfect, like it was made for him” Jenny smiled and slid a second ring onto the counter, titanium cradled a classic yellow gold band. “We're fans John, we never dreamed either of you would walk into our shop but we did hope"   


John paid for the rings and thanked the couple, there was a general moment of sniffing and wiping of eyes as Gerry explained a theft Sherlock solved as a teenager which had saved the business. John headed back to Baker street, rings in his pocket and wondered how he would ever surprise Sherlock, he needn’t have bothered as Sherlock was in his mind palace on the couch. Relieved and slightly disappointed John decided to make dinner and figure out how to approach the subject.

Dinner had been simple fish and salads, missed glances and preoccupation filled their bellies with more butterflies than food. Sherlock spoke first. "You've clearly got something on your mind and I do need to discuss something with you, shall we take a few minutes and meet back here" John dashed upstairs for his purchase and prayed he'd read the situation correctly. A folder lay on the coffee table in front of a very nervous Sherlock but when variegated eyes met the boxes clutched in John's hands they light up. 

Sherlock's smiled was infectious as he opened the file and spread the contents out. "It's all legal, proper channels, should have taken at least three months, John he gave them back to us" John's hands shook as he opened each box in turn and placed them on the documentation. "This is Jenny's work, how did you find them?!" Sherlock stared in awe of his future husband. "They both quite fine, fans of my blog. It was pure coincidence, rather serendipitous, they were made for us and I managed to find them. 


	15. Epilogue: A Few Weeks Later...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Few Weeks Later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The epilogue and done, there's space for additional scenes etc but those will be linked if I do any of them. Thank you for all the support.

A Few Weeks Later… 

Martha Hudson double checked place settings at Angelos restaurant as Angelo himself straighten his suit and yelled orders to his staff for the night. There would be a small civil ceremony and she did not even mind that Sherlock's snake of a brother was officiating. He had apparently arranged all the paperwork weeks before hand and well, that’s what bureaucrats were good for. 

Mike and Greg double checked the rings and speech notes they had to carry for the night. Speeches were limited to 5 minutes and loss of a ring would have truly dire consequences. They grinned at each other on their way to Regents Park for the small evening ceremony, it would be followed by a short walk to their lad's favourite restaurant for a reception. 

John and Sherlock made out like teenagers in their matching black suits, John looked like James Bond and Sherlock looked like a fucking masterpiece but neither could get the other to agree so they had dropped it in favour of just snogging. “Sherlock" “John!” Harry and Mycroft tried to pry their respective grooms away from each other to no avail. 

“Come on you two!” Molly snapped a bit as she brought boutonnieres out of the fridge. “You’ve still got to see the Holmes parents and you’ll hold everything up" “It's our wedding Molly, it has to wait for us" Sherlock griped but held still as Molly pinned the flower in place. “Thank you for keeping us in line Molly, we'll be good. We have all the time in the world" John squeezed Sherlock’s hand. 

Mycroft announced his brother legally wed amid sniffs and cheers that rang through the crisp evening air. The outside wedding meant the homeless network could witness if they wished and the media had been kept at bay by Mycroft's people. An hour later he announced the three week honeymoon to Japan, South Africa, and Paraguay which had taken some time to coordinate explaining how well travelled the couple were, all word of his own atrocious act was left unmentioned. The time was all accounted for now, his brother restored to London and elevated to Loved.

Looking back on the last few months Mycroft felt absolved but also surprised at how far his faith in one fairly ordinary man had carried the course of his brother’s life. John Watson was demonstrably in love with Sherlock and Mycroft knew he could trust that John's care would be an advantage to his brother's happiness. 


End file.
